


Early to Rise

by burning_spirit



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, First Contact Day, Five Year Mission, Fluff, It's Kirk, James T. Kirk/Spock Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Married James T. Kirk/Spock, Morning Cuddles, Morning Routines, Morning Wood, Sleepy Cuddles, Somebody's in the mood, Space Husbands, T'hy'la, Touching, True Love, k/s - Freeform, otp, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 01:53:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14226528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burning_spirit/pseuds/burning_spirit
Summary: A certain Vulcan science officer attempts to go about his morning routine, but a certain captain has no interest in allowing him to get out of bed.  Spock's POV (3rd person limited).





	Early to Rise

**Author's Note:**

> I usually imagine the original Star Trek cast in my work, but I've tried to maintain enough ambiguity that you can read this as the AOS guys if you prefer.
> 
> Since canon does not clarify what the accepted observance of First Contact Day entails, I've taken the liberty of giving senior starship officers a couple hours off before their shift begins.
> 
> Special thanks to Amelia_Elizabeth, willa_belle_m, and winonakirk57 for their beta services!

“Computer, lights to five percent.”

Despite the minimal setting, he still squinted as his eyes adjusted from the calming blackness of their quarters.  And although he did his best each ship’s morning to mutter his first words as quietly as possible, this time either the alarm or his croaking seemed to have stirred the firm, warm body huddled against his back.

“Good morning, sunshine,” came a tenor purr at the shell of his right ear.  A muscular leg slipped between his calves and a thick arm snaked and squeezed around his middle.

He moaned, half in bliss and half in agony.  How could he bear to leave such a magnificent space?  “ _You_ are the sunshine,” he said, lacing his fingers with the ones dithering about his waist.  Surely he could afford to spend a few more minutes draped in this luxurious cocoon of golden sheets and perfectly-tanned limbs.  “I am sorry to have woken you.”

“I’m not.”  That voice could make him shiver even on the hot sands of Vulcan.

An embarrassing squeak escaped his lips when the mouth that had just been speaking closed on his earlobe.  An agile tongue moistened his skin, playful teeth skimmed the area, velvet lips formed a seal and applied delicate suction.  His back arched and his hands clenched at the delicious torment.  He tried to squirm but his arms and legs were fixed in a two-body knot with their brawny counterparts.  Rather self-indulgently, he considered how comforting it would be to pull the embellished edge of the sheet up over their heads and use its two and a half embroidered braids as the boundary of a microcosmic force field that would shield them from the rest of the ship for at least a while longer.

As the tantalizing kiss gratified his earlobe, he felt the hand he wasn’t already clutching slide out from beneath their pillows only to reappear beneath his neck.  The soft fingers curled their way forward, extending feathery tickles to the base of his jaw and then outlining the distinctive contours of his flattened left ear—even as that sensual mouth continued to work over his right.

“Course laid in,” the voice said, punctuating the sultry remark with a firmer play-bite on his lower helix.  The fingers interlaced with his crushed their hands just that much closer together.  A moment later the lips were tracing a line down his neck and across his bare shoulder.

_Stars help me…_

“I cannot,” he tried to say around a moan.

This was met with an unconvinced grunt of a laugh and a gentle renewal of pressure from the lips and hands.  The strong legs pulled his own into an even more secure tangle.  A robust abdomen molded itself to his backside, the unmistakable rigidity there making its presence known with a slow grind.

“Yes you can.”  While the mouth briefly left his skin to comment, the hand intertwined with his crept up his chest and began kneading.  Somehow the left hand had migrated to the junction of his thighs without his having sensed it.  “Lower shields.  That’s an order.”

“Alpha shift begins in fifty-eight minutes,” he said, shaking his head even as his eyes threatened to roll backwards into it.

A non-verbal _nuh-uh_ preceded the barely audible, “First Contact Day.”  The rigid hips gyrating at his back had drawn them both into a languid tandem rhythm.

 _Of course._   He had somehow forgotten all about the holiday and set the chronometer to wake him as usual—and it seemed as if his partner had allowed him to do so for, perhaps, just this reason.  Restraint buckling, he began to submit to the wanton pleasure those talented fingers were impressing upon his chest and inner thigh.  The prospect of spending the senior officers’ two hour reprieve in bed with his mate was indeed quite agreeable.

“Computer, lights out.”

His bunkmate seemed satisfied with this development and gave a deep, lazy hum.  “That’s right; you’re not going anywhere.”  To emphasize that point, all the muscles that were constricting him flexed for a delicious moment, the mouth kissing and licking random spots on his neck all the while.  “Thank you for finally acknowledging my authority.”

“How will we be honoring the day?” he asked between gasps.

“With as much contact as possible,” was the sober reply, a reenergized hand breaching the waist of his sleepwear and massaging his inguinal region.  Hot breaths swept down his shoulder and onto his back.

“Mmm… James,” he groaned into the pillow.

James abruptly pushed away a few inches to make room for the hand his lover had been clasping to glide down his back, fingertips alighting on the bones of his long spine as if they were the controls on his armrest.

“Is that how you address your commanding officer?” he said.  One finger pointedly circled around his sacral vertebrae.  “Don’t make me call security, Mister Spock.”

Spock felt himself grin despite the chastisement.  “Forgive me, Captain.”

With that, the captain fused himself against Spock’s back once more and his lips resumed their charted course.


End file.
